Sunday last day in Devon, and tonight is Paddington London!

I am not the only one in the house, to wake with a headache .

 Am regaled with episodes of laughter about my pronunciation the night before and the laughter it caused . We " Viber" Andrew and pretty soon we are "Skype-ing". With the iPad it is hilarious as the boys show him their dog and the tortoises and the trampoline. Yes and their goldfish and Flynn shows him right inside his bunk bed which is like a wooden playhouse and has portholes - very clever and Ian made it.Each person talks to him.  He is entertained for a while then we attend to the days programme.

We have  a  huge and most delicious brunch, lashings of bacon eggs and sausage and mushrooms tomatoes to set us up. " I say isn't cook (Ian) wizard!" .

Then with bags packed we have one last trip to the moors only this time way up to Princetown near the Dartmoor prison.

This is grey and bleak today, and evidentially the weather can change in a blink and people can be blinded by cloud and lost completely. Hound of the Baskervilles takes on new meaning.

It is chilly but we are on a mission to see relics of these ancient ancient round houses, thousands of years old. We climb and what strikes me is there is nowhere to dodge the boggy nature of the soil, even if you step in "high spots". I know this because my shoes are wet. The ground even on a steep hill is saturated. But we plough or in my case puff up this ancient hill and there they are :

A whole village of round house shaped stones. Flynn  on 

I

Ian has no jacket in this wild and chilly landscape.

Further up, oh yes I had resigned myself to totally sodden shoes to match the soil, there is another remarkable feature. it is these lines of heavy parallel rocks, big rocks stretching maybe half a mile .

nearby is a lined ditch or a ditch lined with rocks. we are talking about Druid days. What I can not understand is what attracted them to live up here where it's probably the easiest place to get the 'flu.

Andrew suggests they could defend themselves from a higher spot. But who would attack? 

theynwouldnhave had to lug these huge huge stones up. Don't be deceived this land is wet.

Anyway it's bak to the van and dried shoes and up past Dartmoor Prison and a 

"Devonshire Cream tea."

here is Sarah instructing in the process. Oh they don't do things by halves. But it's clotted cream.

Anyway I am game so learn with me.

right so here are the ingredients, please note that the cream is different - not whipped but clotted, and yellow-ish in colour.

this is our teacher and she is quite particular. Follow on.

No skimping own the jam see how much she has removed from the dish  and 

No skimping on the cream, a "dollop" is the term. Or it will not be right.

how am I doing ? let me tell you it was DELICIOUS.

BUT panic as the moors have to be renegotiated and the train departure looms. 

A bit of excitement as we race home, get the older kids and my now recharged iPad and speed to Plymouth.

it's quite an adventure in itself.

we start out goodbyes and hugs and pretty soon it's the typical traditional British rail farewellleaning out of the window and all that.

Goodbye Burkes

goodbye Rose. It is tearful and sad but we  thenTurners will be back. Ay Andrew !

thank you thank you for the fun. famous Five eat your heart out.

Hurrah for the Burkes I say !!

And now the fast train to Paddington.

I have  to see it all. very one else is sleeping and it's a pretty trip.

Luckily the hotel is very near. it's a cheap sort of hotel but massive price but the convenience is superb. Praed  Street turns into Craven Road and it is number 11. And I have a balcony room overlooking the street. Heaven. I love it and I like Paddington. Red light district indeed.

Buses jostle and I photograph a 27  and whatever. I love it.